Four Times Catherine Bled, and One Time She Didn't
by FaerieBreath
Summary: Title is pretty self explanatory…zeroing in on a few moments that may have may have happened between Catherine and Henry over the years…technically all Cathry, but not always happy times. Included sensitive topics, please take this into account before investing in the story.
1. Pins & Needles

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Ch 1 - Pins &amp; Needles

Catherine began the practice when she was young, even before her time as a hostage in Florence. Originally she noticed the effect that the slip of a needle had on her ability to focus…calming, steadying, predictable. Her parents died when she was young, and though her family would never have totally abandoned her due to her parent's fortune, it was not the de Medici way to be kind, or caring.

During her darkest days as a hostage she perfected the technique, learning to stick herself just deep enough that she felt the pain, but not so much as to draw attention. In between her toes, under her fingernails, along the edges of her hair. The later had a secondary purpose as the men seemed to like pulling her hair to try and make her scream. The more she did it, the tougher she became…inside and out.

After Florence she was a mess, but a mess with a job to do. Not six months after she was rescued form the convent, her uncle had called on her to "discuss" her future. The nuns had warned her in no uncertain terms that even if the match was made, that a new marriage was just as easy to break as an engagement. She would need to bury her pain deep enough that no one would ever hear of it, her life depended on it.

She had learned to predict the signs of her…troubles...shaking and gasping for breath simply from moving past the room where the men had taken their pleasure...hearing a rowdy sniggering laugh from one of her kin as she moved past a room...a chill in the air or whistle of the wind...a servant receiving particularly nasty treatment. All of these could result in a nightmare which she usually woke from with a voiceless scream, so conditioned she was to keep her mouth shut…or at least to keep her troubles unheard. She would lie awake shaking for several hours afterward, but she was able to bury it deep enough that even the kindest nun who would otherwise have come to check on her never knew. She only hoped that her husband to be was a sound sleeper, or at the very least unobservant.

When she was brought briefly to be reunited with her relatives before sailing for France she was able to put her resolve and her methods of hiding her pain to the test. Several of her male relatives were known for their exploits and the mere mention of one of their conquests in her hearing made her run for the nearest empty room or closet. Here was when she discovered the limits of the technique, finding out how far she could go…would go…needed to go. Sometimes she'd even leave a pin or two in during her hardest times, moments, memories. She knew she couldn't go on like this, but for the moment it was better than the alternative. If she couldn't cope she would be dead, and that was not a choice.

When she first came to France she tried to stop. She was under even greater scrutiny than before so she tried to find other ways of stopping the pain, but none seemed to work. One time she was almost caught by her fiancé of all people. She had found a quiet spot in the gardens and made sure she was alone. As always she had her needlework with her, and so the blood could be explained. Apparently he had decided that he needed to see her one afternoon, and not long into her ritual he found her. The look that lingered on his handsome face seemed to hold an unspoken question as to the the truth of her explanation. Instead of pushing though he simply picked up the affected hand, wiped away the blood and kissed the wound, then moved to another finger and repeated his ministration, then another, and another, until he was kissing her all over. It surprised her a little…his forwardness as well as her acceptance of the gesture, but for the first time a kiss did not feel like acid on her skin.

It turns out there was one way she could live with the pain, and not inflict it herself.

For the first time in her life, she felt a glimmer of hope, of joy, of…love.

For the first time her blood ran with pleasure, instead of pain.


	2. Womanhood

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

It was not two days into their wedding tour and Catherine had begun her monthly cleansing. She didn't even realize it at first as she had taken to wearing a dark red nightgown her new husband seemed to enjoy so much. In the middle of relieving herself, while half awake she heard her husband calling her name with mild terror in his voice, "Catherine! What did I…did I do…did I hurt you?! I though it would only happen once!"

Thoroughly confused until she glanced back at the sheets she had recently vacated, she returned to bed smiling indulgently despite the pulsating pain throughout her lower abdomen that she had just begun to notice. Rising and moving graceful to the bed she knelt next to him and placed her hands on her dear husband's shoulders, trailing one hand down to rest on his chest as she gave him a knowing smile.

"No darling, my body is simply reminding me that I am more than capable of bearing children though not this night."

Still looking thoroughly confused she answered his unasked question with a sweet kiss to his lips as her hand made it up to caress his morning stubble as she gently pushed her husband back on their marriage bed and nestled into his side. It was still relatively early and she decided that she was not yet ready to face the day.

"I will be fine, you have done fine, and we will be…fine."

Later that afternoon, however, Henry was not so sure.

Looking through her chest Catherine was muttering in Italian and seemed rather irritated, though he could not tell why. Yelping as a heavily jeweled bracelet hit him square in the nose, his dear wife turned at the sound and continued muttering, but now she was gesticulating toward him as well.

Dumbfounded he tried to approach her to find out what was wrong, but that only served to irritate her more. She stood and was now advancing on him with all of her frustration directed at him. For the first time since he had met her, he was truly terrified.

Not knowing what else to do he decided that instead of retreating, he would try to divert the attention of his hot blooded wife. In two quick strides he made it over to her, slid one arm around her waist, and another up her back before drawing her close and kissing her…hopefully senseless.

Initially her eyes closed and his plan seemed to be working, but just as quickly she gasped, her eyes flew open and she shoved at his chest with the most strength he had know any woman to possess and the words she had been muttering came even faster. Startled he stumbled back and before he realized what was happening she had begun hitting his chest and yelling at him. Slack-jawed, he was beginning to get the idea that retreat may have been a better strategy when she he surprised him once more and froze suddenly, let out a short sob, and burrowed into his chest, arms clinging to him like a lifeline as she wept into his broad chest, muttering apologies for her actions.

Later after they both calmed down and were cuddling by the lake, she gave him a limited explanation as to what had gone on.

He still did not fully understand, and he was more than a little concerned that this was to be a monthly event. Despite the carnage she seems to be describing, she was the picture of calm and so he was moderately satisfied that it would not be the end of the world.

He would definitely be making some discreet inquiries however when they returned. There had to be some remedy for this…ailment, even if only to make it less terrifying for him!

All this because of a flow of blood.


	3. Miscarriage

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

They had been fighting a lot lately. Also making love, but it seemed like the fighting was happening t least as often if not more. Henry could have passed for a full blooded Italian given on the intensity off their recent spats.

After one particularly riotous fight, Catherine began to storm out of the room when she doubled in half and cried out in pain. Stumbling back a few steps, she cried out again as her breathing became labored and she clutched at her abdomen.

The next thing she knew Henry had run to her side, cradled her to his body and carried her to her bed. He called to the guards to retrieve the court physician and even Nostradamus. If she wasn't in such pain she would have chuckled at that , apparently she had given him a pretty good scare to have called the court seer as well.

As another pain gripped her she heard him calling out to her and felt his hand holding tightly to hers. Tears began to prick her eyes as she was left gasping for breath, already grieving for the life she knew would soon be leaving the safety of her body and into moving into eternity.

Through the haze that had become her reality, she felt him climb in next to her and cradle her to him. Conflicted, she simultaneously wanted to curl into his broad chest and push him as far away as possible, but she didn't have the strength to accomplish either.

It was all she could do to lay there in his arms and not let the sobs completely overtake her.

Once the tears had begun to cascade down her face she felt him lift her chin and kiss them away. By that point they were flowing so steadily that it was virtually a fruitless endeavor, yet still he continued.

He could be so sweet at times. Sweet and as hapless as a puppy.

It was moments like these that got her through the darkest of nights...though they were too few and far between.

Her contemplations were stopped short when the Physicians rushed in, followed soon by Nostradamus. Henry was momentarily pushed aside as they examined her, only to confirm what she already knew.

Henry returned to her side as soon as he was able, but that didn't change the reality of the child's fate...

She lost the baby, their baby, and for weeks was left listless.

She would put up a good show for the court when it was absolutely necessary, but she felt so empty, and couldn't fathom the idea that she would ever feel whole again.

Henry had had all of the the soiled textiles removed from her room, and had even offered his own room as a refuge at the start, but she found that despite his efforts she needed space more than she needed his comfort, no matter how genuine.

She knew she would eventually have to get back to her duties, though Henry has been generously patient allowing her time to grieve. In some cases even taking on her responsibilities himself, but every time she heard someone crying out or in pain she was transported back to that room, to those moments of time burned into her memory…to the blood.

The blood that flowed out of her was not just her own life blood, but a signal that the life only newly begin had been extinguished, when she was not even aware it had been alive.

And the grief would return, and the blood never seemed to end.


	4. Pregnant!

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Catherine was late, by exactly 1 week.

Then a second.

Then a third.

She tried not to get her hopes up as it almost never ended in anything but disappointment, but against her better judgement her hope was growing.

Then she began to spot…a little blood here, a little blood there, and she had to fight back the tears.

Then she stopped, and once again she began to hope.

After a month of no significant blood flow she finally told Nostradamus.

He agreed with caution that she was pregnant, but that her chances of miscarriage were still fairly high.

When she left Nostradamus she was partially numb, partially overwhelmed, and partially excited. A child, that she knew was on its way, was growing inside her.

She was so distracted by her inner thoughts that she didn't hear Henry until he was almost on top of her, angry about something she had done or not done, but at the moment she could not care any less. She was pregnant with his child, and she just didn't care.

He finally stopped and looked at her when she hadn't responded with her usual remarks and noticed her faraway look.

"Catherine," he started, "what on earth has you so distracted, you…"

She was so happy she paid no mind to his words. Instead of responding back with her tongue and wit she simply stepped closer to him, placed her hands on either side of his waist and waited until his hands stilled to simply stare at her. Then slowly she guided his hands to her lower abdomen and smiled, watching as his frown turned into a question, and then a hopeful expression.

"You are with child?" he asked full realization finally hitting him as a grin made its way onto his face. His hands moved suddenly then, wrapping around her and spinning her around as they both laughed at her news and his antics.

Eventually setting her down he leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, looking deeply into her eyes. "Catherine, I can't believe…we've wait so long…I…"

But she cut him off, "Henry," she said, but waited until she had his full attention before continuing, "jut kiss me."

And he did.

After a short time of sweet embraces, they drew apart slightly and walked hand in hand to…somewhere, neither really cared.

Eventually Henry directed them to one of the near gardens and they settled on one of the benches, having fallen into a comfortable silence.

"Henry, I…we…its still early…we could still lose the babe," she began, worry starting to set in.

"No," he simply replied, much to her annoyance…and frustration.

"Henry," she began.

"No Catherine…mia Caterina," he said with a grin. "I know that it is a possibility, but for this very moment you are, we are pregnant. God has finally seen fit to bless us with an heir, and I will not let the unseen future take that away.

Drawing her close to him with an arm around her shoulders, she allowed her head to rest on his and acknowledged the truth in his words, though she could not help but worry.

And for a time, the blood stopped.


	5. Bleeding Heart

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Another mistress, another embarrassment, another night alone…

'Come hither, I love you…

You're such a wretched, heartless bore…

My darling, your beauty surpasses all others…

See here my new plaything…

I don't understand why you are in such a mood Diane is…well I can't dismiss her now no you'll simply have to get along…

The children are beautiful my darling, my heart…'

Over and over, an endless stream of words, drawing her close then cutting her off - slicing her heart then stitching it whole…usually a bit askew, until he sliced her again.

Catherine knew it would come, again and again. And she knew she would let him.

To those like Richard she would emphasize his rights as a husband, and as the King for whom were permitted certain allowances. Every once in a while she would take him to her bed just to spite Diane, the sheer stupidity of that woman to think he would ever be faithful to any woman. But truly it was her own weakness for him which prompted her concessions when he would woo her, bed her, and then eventually to leave her…again.

She loved him, the cheating, lying, fool of a husband…she truly loved him. She also hated him, but the two feelings she found were not mutually exclusive.

Once, when she was feeling particularly self-reflective she tried to figure out exactly why…some logic that she could at least make sense of for herself. It was true that she had no other choice. While some women would take lovers in the absence of real affection from their husbands, she could not…at least not in any was that would be meaningful or long term. She was the Queen of France, there was no woman under greater scrutiny, and therefore at far greater risk of being found out. Richard was a pleasant reprieve in a life otherwise void of loneliness and regret, but even he had known it could not last. And then she got pregnant with the wrong man's child and she swore never to put herself in that position again.

It was also true that Henry was the father of her children, several times over, and so they shared that bond…though his children never seemed to draw him like they did her, sadly.

But it was the third possibility which seemed the most likely. It was true that once upon a time they had fallen in a full and unreserved youthful love with each other. On the coldest, loneliness night she would allow her memories to drift back to those moments in time to relive them, and revive her wounded heart. She knew all to well of her reputation as the Ice Queen with the black Medici heart. But she truly could not imagine her life without the presence of love.

As a mother the love of her children was something she would be eternally grateful for, and could not now ever imagine living without. But she was also a woman, and she knew without the shadow of a doubt that she needed to love and feel loved. As as dysfunctional as their relationship was, it helped to steady during her darkest nights.

It pained her terribly, almost more than the dark nights in Florence, but it was her reality and barring an act of God it would not change for quite some time.

She equally hated it and depended on it just to survive day to day.

Despite the fact that the pain she endured was so deep that it bored her to her core, her greatest pain would never show.

For once in her life, the blood never came.


	6. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Catherine was feeling so smug she was almost giddy.

She had tasked one of her ladies to keep and eye, or rather ear, out to let her know when the King and Diane's evening interlude was concluding so that she could time this just right.

Now walking through the halls of the Castle she could feel herself nearly floating…a feeling she was certainly not used to, nor one for which she generally felt particularly dignified, but there is was.

And why was she feeling this? Because the woman who had so carelessly contributed to her many years of anguish and loneliness was about to be gone from her life by her own hand…even if only for a time.

Fo years she had longed to get rid of Diane, but she was one of Henry's most prized possessions and virtually untouchable…virtually.

What on earth he saw in her she could not fathom…well she knew what he saw, but beyond that she could find no other merit of which to speak.

Finally approaching Henry's door, she must have looked intimidating enough to the guards as they let her in without a second glance. Striding into Henry's chambers and confronting his half naked mistress was an absolute pleasure for once. As her target scrambled to cover herself, Catherine strode right up to Henry's bed and vindictively threw Diane's garments back at her.

The look on Diane's face when she realized that she could do nothing but aqueous to Catherine's demands was priceless and would ensure an almost permanent grin on the Queen's face, when intimidation or chastisement were not needed, for several days to come.

She finally would have her revenge, and it would be sweet.

The motivations for this were almost entirely for her own enjoyment, although getting some payback for Henry's years of neglect didn't hurt either.

Henry had dug his own grave a long time ago. She couldn't possibly help if this one action accomplished two favorable objectives at the same time.

She took great pleasure not only in throwing Diane out, but also as a reminder to herself which one of them actually held power.

Henry may have mocked her when Mary first came to court, putting on a good show for the nobles and his sons, but his interpretation of her influence was a far cry from the the reality of his claims.

She was the Queen of France, this was her Castle, and it was long past time Diane was reminded of that. No matter how long Diane actually stayed away, she had bested the temptress and won.

Finishing her tirade and making certain to rub Henry's chronic infidelity in her face, even to her, Catherine made to leave without leaving one single razor sharp leaf unturned…for once inflicting the wounds instead of receiving them.

No blood would flow from Catherine de Medici this night.

AN: Many thanks to all of those who read, followed, favored, and reviewed! As requested, I tried to end this on a slightly happier…or at least less angsty note than originally planned. At least as the show portrays it, Catherine and Henry's story is certainly a tragedy by definition, and from what history seems to record it would appear that the historical couple did not have a happy ending either :(.

For those of you who have favorited me as an author, I am honored. I have several other stories in process that I will begin posting once they are more solidly on their way and prompts are always welcome. Jusqu'à la prochaine fois!


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